


The Broken Little Songbird

by MyHeart_Beats



Category: GOT7
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Anger, Arguing, Best Friends, Break Up, Canon Compliant, Confusion, Dark, Family Drama, Family Issues, Fear, Fights, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Hospitals, Hurt Jackson Wang, Hurt Kim Yugyeom, Hurt Mark Tuan, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury Recovery, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jealousy, Kim Yugyeom-Centric, M/M, Mark Tuan Needs A Hug, Mark Tuan-centric, Mental Anguish, Mental Instability, Miscommunication, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, OT7, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Kim Yugyeom, Protective Team, Rape Recovery, Sad Kim Yugyeom, Sad Mark Tuan, Savage Kim Yugyeom, Some Humor, Stalking, Suspense, Team as Family, Trauma, Triggers, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:28:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28613619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyHeart_Beats/pseuds/MyHeart_Beats
Summary: What’s wrong, Songbird? Don’t want to see me?I want to see youI can see youAll the timeI can get to you whenever I want to because you’re mine nowYou’re mine foreverIn the aftermath of a single night, Mark Tuan found his life to be changed forever. With the love of his life gone and his members turning against him, how could Mark cope with a stalker who was more dangerous than anyone could ever realize?
Relationships: GOT7 Ensemble/Everyone, Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung, Kim Yugyeom/Mark Tuan, Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Kim Yugyeom, Mark Tuan/Everyone, Mark Tuan/Jackson Wang
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter One: Begin

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is a plot bunny that has been living in my head for a long, long, LONG time. No time like the present, right?
> 
> ALSO: this story carries a heavy trigger warning so please beware!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the sun peeks out behind the clouds. And sometimes, it doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title “Begin” - Jungkook (BTS)

It was cold. That drifting thought penetrated Mark’s foggy mind. It was cold. His eyes snapped open, frantically darting around the room. _Where am I?_ Mark didn’t recognize his surroundings at all. The mattress beneath him was hard, its sheets scratchy against Mark’s skin. The walls were a peeling tan. There were no windows. It looked like a motel room. 

Mark sat up and hissed with surprise as a deep, aching pain shot through his entire body. Shifting to ease the pain, Mark froze and looked down only to seen bare skin. He was naked. Mark grabbed the sheets to pull them higher up his body; as he lifted the sheets, Mark heard a rustling sound. He searched through the rumpled bedspread until his wandering fingers touched paper. It was a folded note. Unfolding it, Mark squinted to read the sloppy handwriting.

_**Thanks for the wild night. I won’t forget it any time soon! ;D xoxo** _

“What the...” Mark confusedly mumbled, rereading the small message. He dropped the note as its implications slammed into him. _Does this mean what I think it means? Did I—no, I would never do that to Jackson. I wouldn’t._ Mark looked up and saw his clothes neatly folded on a rickety chair in the corner of the room. He scrambled out of the bed, the sheets trailing behind him, and he rushed to the chair. Mark rushed to cover himself as fear and shame burned in his chest, his body aching with every move he made.

As Mark fastened the final buttons of his shirt, he realized his jacket was missing. He looked around the room but didn’t see it. Other than the scratchy sheets falling off the bed, the floor was bare. Not wanting to venture out without his jacket, Mark decided to look under the bed; he bent down to look and saw a dark lump underneath. _My jacket!_ He pulled out the lump, deflating when he saw it wasn’t his black leather jacket. It was some old, tattered green hoodie. Mark contemplated leaving it behind, but he didn’t know what time of day it was and it was nearing winter. He needed a jacket. With a sigh of resignation, Mark slipped the oversized garment over his head, pulling up the hood.

A shrill ring pierced through the silent air, its sharp pitch stabbing Mark’s eardrums. He jumped in shock, an unbidden shriek escaping his throat. The ringing continued. Mark berated his pounding heart and follow the ringing until he found his phone by the door. He picked it up off the floor, groaning at the sight of a newly cracked screen. There were twenty-five missed calls and forty unread messages. Before he could click the first message, Mark’s phone beeped in warning and shut off. Mark glared the black screen before stuffing the device into his pocket.

“I need to get out of here,” Mark declared aloud. He scoured the room for his shoes but he couldn’t find them. He couldn’t find his socks neither. Nor his mask. Nor his wallet. Mark let out a string of profanities. He opened the door to leave but paused; he looked back at the bed. Mark didn’t know what compelled him, but he turned back and grabbed the damning note and put it in his pocket. He left. Mark ducked his head down and scurried out of the rundown motel.

The sun was high in the sky, and people were bustling on the streets. Mark knew it would be easier for people to recognize him in broad daylight, so he bowed his head and walked. Each step brought a new level of pain, the chill of the concrete seeping into his sensitive soles. Ignoring the pain, Mark walked until he stood in front of a convenience store. His feet were completely numb. He walked inside and stopped at the counter.

“Excuse me?”

The cashier looked up from her phone. She smiled, “How can I help you?”

“Um,” Mark uttered softly, his eyes just over her shoulder. He could feel his toes starting to tingle. “I need shoes. I lost my wallet and my shoes and I was wondering if you had any old shoes in the back you could give me.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed and she silently looked Mark up and down. He fidgeted nervously. Suddenly, her face softened and she gave him a look of pity. He wondered what she saw. She nodded her head in confirmation before she left the counter, disappearing into the back room. Mark glanced at the ticking clock on the wall. 2:21 pm. She returned with a pair of worn out, pale pink sneakers.

“Sorry, these were the only matched pair back there,” she apologized with a grimace. She held them out to him. “They’re a size ten in women’s.”

“That’s perfect. Thank you so much,” Mark gave her a grateful smile, taking the shoes out of her hands. He bent down and pulled the shoes on, sloppily lacing them up. He tightened the shoestrings, tying them snugly so no cold air would creep in. He heard a throat clear and he looked up; the girl stood over him with a steaming cup in her hands.

“This should help with the shaking,” she explained kindly, glancing pointedly at his hands. He followed her gaze, eyes locking on his hands. They were trembling almost violently. He didn’t notice. He took the styrofoam cup from her and bowed.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, his fingers curling around the warm cup. “You didn’t have to do this.”

She only smiled. “Have a nice day, Sir.”

Mark returned her smile and left the store. He took a cautious sip from the cup. Tea. He took another sip, allowing the hot liquid to burn his throat. He tried to hail a cab; his arm remained outstretched as car after car passed him by. Finally, a cab slowed in front of him and Mark climbed inside. Telling the gruff taxi driver the dorm’s address, Mark allowed himself the journey. He leaned against the window and just breathed. Everything hurt. His head was pounding, a fog blanketing his mind. His limbs felt heavy, his stomach was rolling, he wanted to cry. He drank his tea instead.

“Hey, Kid. We’re here.” Mark jolted before moving away from the window. The car was parked in front of the dorm. Mark sighed in relief and opened the door, but he froze. He had no wallet, and he had no way to pay the man. He stared at the expectant man.

“Sir, I don’t have my wallet and I have no money. If you wait down here, though, I will go to my apartment and get the money and return,” Mark offered tentatively.

The man stared at Mark with open disbelief before snorting, “Do I look stupid to you, Kid? Let me park and I’ll take you up there.”

Just wanting to get home, Mark agreed and shut the door. He waited for the man to park before he stepped out; he opened the driver’s door and helped the older man get out. The man gave Mark a shrewd look but thanked him. Mark led the man into the building and to the elevators. Since some of the members opted to move out, the company decided to downsize the dorm. They took the elevator to the fourth floor. Mark went to their door, knocked, waited, knocked again. No one answered.

“Aish,” Mark sighed under his breath. He just wanted to go to sleep. He began to bang on the door, his skin turning red from the force.

“We’re coming! Stop with the noise, dammit!”

Mark heard Jaebum’s angry growl through the door. He dropped his hand to his side and gave the taxi driver a shy grin. Mark heard footsteps and waited for the door to open. It swung open, revealing a relieved smile.

“Hyung!” Yugyeom exclaimed happily. “You’re home!”

Mark smiled, “Hey, Gyeommie. I need some money.”

Yugyeom frowned in confusion, “Uh, what?”

“Money...” Mark repeated slowly, his brow furrowed. He was pretty sure he said the word correctly. He indicated to the taxi driver. “I have to pay this man.”

Yugyeom stared at the stranger beside his hyung. Taking note of the mean expression the man bore, his eyes widened. “Um...JAEBUM-HYUNG!”

Mark groaned. He heard more footsteps before Jaebum appeared behind Yugyeom.

“What’s the problem?” Jaebum huffed. He looked at Mark, frowning when he saw the man beside him. “Hyung, where have you been? And who the hell is this?”

The man grunted, “Are you gonna pay me or not?”

Jaebum’s eyebrow rose and he looked at Mark for an explanation.

“He’s a taxi driver,” Mark clarified with an obvious expression. “I couldn’t find my wallet so we came up here to make sure he was paid. Can you pay him now? He does have to go back to work.”

Jaebum pulled out his wallet with a roll of his eyes. “Fine. How much do we owe you, Sir?”

“₩43,000.”

“What?!” Jaebum exclaimed. The man just stared at him. Jaebum glared at Mark before pulling out a ₩50,000 note and handing it to the driver. “Keep the change. Thank you.”

The man nodded and walked off. Mark pushed past his welcoming party; he had to manually take off his footwear, each movement causing discomfort. He entered the living room and was surprised to see the remaining members waiting for him. When Mark saw Jackson, something slotted in place. Jackson jumped up as soon as he saw Mark, enveloping his frame in his strong arms.

“Markiepoo,” Jackson said reverently. “We were worried about you!”

Mark hugged back, burying his face into Jackson’s neck. He mumbled his apologies into Jackson’s skin, his temples twinging. Jackson pulled back slightly and kissed Mark on his nose before attaching their lips together. Mark pressed into the soft kiss.

“Hyung, where were you?” Jinyoung questioned, his handsome face etched with worry.

Mark looked at him silently. He shrugged.

Jackson made a noise in his throat before his fingers slid along Mark’s jaw. Mark closed his eyes at the soft touch. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m just really tired,” Mark uttered, his eyes still closed. He couldn’t believe he only woke up two hours ago. “Can we go to bed?”

“Of course,” Jackson agreed easily. He took Mark’s hand and pulled him towards his room, shutting the door behind them. Jackson led his weary lover to the bed; they slid under the covers and came together in the center of the bed. Mark laid his head on Jackson’s chest, their legs intertwined comfortably. “Are you sure you’re okay?

Breathing in Jackson’s homey scent, Mark nodded. “I’m sure.”

Mark drifted into a deep sleep before his next breath. He remained in Jackson’s embrace. The sun descended, kissing the horizon. Mark slowly woke up as the burning sun slowly went to sleep. It was dark when his eyes opened. He was alone. Mark stretched and sat up, nose wrinkling as a strange scent wafted. Mark sniffed his armpit and shuddered. He needed a shower.

Mark stripped off his clothes and grabbed his towel, entering the bathroom. He turned on the shower, and he made quick work brushing his teeth while the water heated up. Mark shaved his face. He stepped into the shower; the warm water felt so good against his sore muscles and Mark released a breath. He washed himself and stepped out the shower, wrapping his towel around his waist.

Mark returned to his room and toweled himself dry. Mark went to his dresser, taking out a pair of clean underwear and pulling them on. Then, he put on some sweatpants and a low-cut white t-shirt. His feet were still cold, so Mark grabbed a pair of socks. Going to his closet, he opened and thumbed through it for a sweater.

He heard the door open behind him. Mark looked over his shoulder and saw Jackson standing in the doorway. Mark sent him a smile before returning to look for a warm sweater.

Mark pouted, “Jacks, have you seen my—”

“What the _fuck_ , Mark?” Jackson snapped, cutting Mark off mid-sentence.

Mark jumped at the loud sound, spinning in his heel to survey the room. “What? What’s wrong?” He asked in English, not finding anything out of sorts.

“‘What’s wrong?’” Jackson repeated cuttingly, his face twisted up. Mark frowned. “How about while I was here worried about you, you were out cheating on me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Mark shouted in disbelief. “I haven’t cheated on you?”

“Oh really?” Jackson challenged, a steely glint in his eyes. Slamming the door shut, Jackson stormed towards Mark. He grabbed Mark’s upper arm and began to drag him to the full-length mirror.

Mark winced at the harsh grip. “Ow! Jackson, you’re hurting me! Let go!”

Jackson ignored his demands. He stopped in front of the mirror and, pushing Mark closer, Jackson pulled at the neckline of his shirt. “Look! What are these then, huh? I didn’t give you these!” Jackson snarled in English. “I said look!”

Mark looked at the mirror and gasped. There were multiple purple and red blots decorating his neck and chest. Hickeys. Hickeys that weren’t there the last time he remembered. _Did I really?_ Mark remembered the note he found in the bed. The seedy motel. But he wouldn’t! He knew he wouldn’t. He loved Jackson. “I-I, Jackson, I didn’t. I swear!”

Jackson released him with a noise of disgust. He stepped back when Mark reached out to touch him. “If you didn’t cheat, then where were you all day? What the hell were you doing?”

“I don’t know!” Mark cried out honestly. “I can’t remember, but I would never cheat on you, Jackson! You know that!”

Jackson snatched the forgotten green hoodie off the floor and shook it in Mark’s face. “Whose is this? It’s not yours and you weren’t wearing this when you left. I know that because you sent me a photo of your outfit. Do you remember that?”

_No._ “Y-yes,” Mark lied. Mark couldn’t remember any of the day before or the day before that.

“Then whose is this? Mark, just...just tell me what you did. Who were you with? Huh?” Jackson demanded, throwing the article of clothing down in anger. “Tell me!”

“No one! I didn’t cheat on you!” Mark shouted back, tears gathering in his eyes. “Please, believe me! If you’d just sit down, I can expl—”

“Fuck that. We’re done,” Jackson snapped.

Every thought in Mark’s mind ceased to exist. _He can’t mean what I think he means. He can’t! I need to explain!_ Mark’s heart thundered loudly in his ears. “Wh-what? Jackson?”

Jackson shook his head, “You heard me. We’re over. You can’t just cheat on me and then lie to my fucking face! We’re done.” He roughly pushed past Mark’s frozen body, throwing open the door and storming out.

“Jackson, wait!” He implored loudly. Mark ran to follow him, rushing past the other members to the door. Jackson rose from the ground where he just finished putting on his shoes. Mark grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving. “Jackson, stop! Just listen to me, ok? I didn’t! Please!”

“I really don’t care,” Jackson answered blandly, pulling away from Mark’s hands. Jackson didn’t even spare a glance Mark’s way as he left, slamming the door soundly behind him. Mark couldn’t find it in himself to flinch this time. _What have I done? Oh god, what have I done?_


	2. Chapter Two: 180 Degree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would be easier? For a flower to bloom in the snow or for snow to fall beneath the sun?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title “180 Degree” by BEN

“The number you have dialed is no longer available—” With a guttural cry of frustration, Mark threw his phone and curled into a ball. It had been three days. Three long, agonizing days. Jackson wouldn’t answer any of Mark’s calls or texts, and Mark grew tired of the burning gazes of his members every time he left his room, so he stayed inside. And he cried. Bearing one of Jackson’s shirts and cocooned in his comforter, Mark cried. He cried because he was alone and he was hurting and he was confused, and God, he was scared. In fact, he was terrified.

Mark left endless messages on Jackson’s phone; he broke down whenever Jackson didn’t answer, and when his tears dried on his cheeks, he’d call again. Then, Jackson blocked him. Another round of tears.

Mark was ripped from his stupor when a loud knock sounded on his door. Mark closed his eyes under his covers, willing whoever it was to just go away. They didn’t. Without his permission, the door creaked open.

“Hyung? Hyung, are you up?” _Jinyoung._

“What do you want?” Mark muttered sadly, his voice scratchy from the constant crying. There was a pause before he heard the door creak again.

“Jaebum-hyung called a group meeting. He wants you to come to the living room. We’re all waiting.”

“Of course you’re all waiting,” Mark huffed tiredly. There was a slight shuffle. Mark sighed. “I’m coming, Nyoung-ah. Just give me a few minutes.”

“...Alright.” After a brief moment, Mark could hear shuffling and then the sound of retreating footsteps. He noticed he didn’t hear the door close. With a groan, Mark pulled himself out of his bed. He passed the mirror without looking at it, not wanting to see his limp hair or bloodshot eyes. How he felt was ten times worse than how he looked, anyways. Mark grabbed Jackson’s sweatshirt and pulled it over his head.

Mark slowly left his room, reluctant to leave his sanctuary and face the world. As he walked down the hall, Mark could hear a furious whispering, no doubt the other members gossiping about him as he was sure they had been doing the past few days. His suspicions were confirmed when the whispers abruptly ended as soon as he stepped out of the hallway. Five pairs of eyes stared back at him. No Jackson.

Mark saw Jaebum’s eyes fall to his borrowed sweatshirt. The leader’s lips twisted with obvious disgust, but Mark ignored him. Instead, he took in the layout of the living room: the couch and loveseat were filled with the members and across from the couch was a wooden chair, its lonely position a telling sign. Suddenly, Mark knew what this was. It wasn’t just a meeting but a trial. His trial. Mark contemplated not giving into the dramatics and just walking back the way he came, but he knew that would only delay the inevitable. He hesitantly sat down on the chair and faced his members.

“What is this about?” He asked quietly, locking eyes with everyone. On the couch, Jaebum sat in the center with Jinyoung on his right and Youngjae on his left; BamBam and Yugyeom sat together in the loveseat, all of their eyes trained on Mark.

Youngjae looked around, frowning when no one spoke up. He shifted uncomfortably on his seat, “Hyung, we, uh, we wanted to talk about what happened a few days ago. W-with you and Jackson-hyung.”

“Look,” Mark started, fiddling nervously with his sweater paws. “We don’t have to talk about this, alright? What happened is just a huge misunderstanding, and—”

“Right,” BamBam scoffed with a hard eye roll, cutting off Mark’s words. He glared heatedly at Mark. “I’m sure fucking someone other than your boyfriend is a ‘huge misunderstanding.’”

Yugyeom gasped at BamBam’s harsh words. “Bammie, shut up!”

Jaebum shook his head, “No, BamBam is right.” He leveled his harsh gaze on Mark. “What you did was wrong and selfish. Not only did it destroy Jackson but it puts the future of the entire group at risk. What if Jackson decides to leave?”

“Jackson wouldn’t do something like that!” Mark snapped, the words causing his chest to squeeze. Would Jackson try to leave? Or would he go to JYP and get Mark kicked out? Get the group disbanded? It was something completely possible, causing fear to mount in Mark’s heart. He didn’t want to be the cause of the group’s destruction.

“Wouldn’t he, though?” Jaebum argued angrily, his arms crossed. “You fucked someone else and then came home and slept in the same bed as him. I can barely even look at you and I’m not the one in love with you!”

Mark shot out of his seat. “I didn’t cheat on Jackson!” He swore vehemently. He could tell no one believed him. He pulled at his hair. “God, why won’t you fucking believe me?”

“You came home from places unknown covered in hickeys, wearing clothes that aren’t even yours!” Jinyoung suddenly snapped, frustrated with the entire situation. “What else are we supposed to believe, Hyung,huh?”

Mark stared at Jinyoung in shock, his heart clenching in his chest. He felt betrayed. This was his best friend. Other than Jackson, Jinyoung was connected to Mark in fundamental ways; their relationship was both eerily similar and altogether different from his with Jackson. Out of all people, if _anyone_ should have sided with him, Mark believed it would be him.

“You’re supposed to believe me,” Mark cried, his eyes stinging from tears. He looked around the room. “You’re supposed to be my friends!”

BamBam quickly rose from his seat to meet Mark head-on, shaking off Yugyeom’s arm. “And Jackson-hyung is supposed to be your boyfriend! What about that? He’s our friend and he’s hurting because of you! What do you have to say about that?”

“Can we all just calm down for, like, one second?” Yugyeom asked from his seat, his eyes nervously darting around the room. “I think we’re all getting a little out of hand.”

“No!” Mark refused angrily. “This is fucking ridiculous. _You_ are ridiculous. If you’re not going to listen to me, then what’s the point of all this?”

“Then explain it to us!” Jaebum shouted. “Explain to us what went through your head when you decided one night was worth everything we’ve ever built!”

Mark stared at them. He saw their set faces and stony expressions. He wanted to tell them he had no recollection of the past few days, but he knew they wouldn’t care. They’d probably blame him for partying too hard or drinking too much or lying just to save face. He wanted to swear that he didn’t cheat in Jackson because he loved the man and he had morals, but he knew they wouldn’t believe him. They would never believe him. He sighed.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, and I don’t have to justify myself to any of you,” He said quietly. He could feel the room shrinking in on him, the air escaping the room every passing second. He needed to leave. He needed to leave _right now_. Mark rushed out of the living room; he scrambled to grab his coat and his shoes, ignoring the calls from the other members. He made sure to slam the door behind himself.

He didn’t stop to put on his shoes in the elevator. When the elevator opened on the first floor, Mark stepped out and he walked. Out of the building, down the street, he walked. Mark walked until his feet began to ache and his limbs felt like ice blocks and he was beyond anywhere familiar—and then he kept walking.

Turning to his left, Mark opened the first door he saw and entered it. It was a restaurant. He walked towards the back; Mark went inside the men’s restroom and stepped into the first empty stall he saw. He locked the door, collapsed onto the toilet, and cried. Eyes tightly clenched, sobs wracking his lean body, Mark cried. _It hurts. It hurts. It hurts._ Mark pulled up his knees and continued to weep uncontrollably, his head buried in his lap.

Time outside his stall passed unassumingly, hues of red and pink and orange tinging the wide sky. Mark gradually calmed down, the sharp pain behind his eyes suddenly more pronounced. With a loud exhale, Mark gently unfolded his body and exited the stall. He walked calmly out of the bustling restaurant. The cool autumn air had frosted over, a thin layer of white covering the ground. Mark began his trek back to the dorm and its heavy tension. He remembered what led him to the uncomfortable situation in the first place.

Mark was nothing if not practical, and he wasn’t an idiot. Logically, he knew there was a high possibility he spent the night with someone other than Jackson, but that wasn’t a fact that sat well with him emotionally. Mark had never had sex with anyone, not even Jackson, while under the influence. It was just something he was uncomfortable with, even though he always remembered everything the next day. And that was another thing: Mark, no matter how trashed he was, could always remember what he did or said. He could recall the smallest details with startling clarity, almost as if his mind held every moment hostage. And yet, that wasn’t the case this time; instead, Mark had a large blank space where two days’ worth of memories should be. It was disconcerting that he single-handedly destroyed his life but for once, he couldn’t remember it. It was also strangely poetic that his last memory before waking up in that motel was a bright smile on Jackson’s face.

When Mark entered the dorm, he was greeted with pointed silence and chilling glares. He walked straight to his room, firmly closing and locking his door. Mark climbed into his bed without bothering to undress; the deep aching in his bones hadn’t quite receded yet, and the pain in his head and chest weren’t helping matters at all. Mark grabbed his forgotten phone and looked to see if he had any new messages. There were three.

> **Jaebum**
> 
> come home. now.

Mark rolled his eyes at the pugnacious text. It was sent right after he left. He tapped the next text and was almost unsurprised to see it was from the youngest in the group.

> **Yugyeom**
> 
> be careful hyung
> 
> calm ur mind and come back safe

Mark couldn’t stop his smile at the sweet text. It was comforting to know that someone still cared about him even though he screwed everything up. Clicking his final text, Mark’s smile quickly faded. _What the hell?_

> **Unknown**
> 
> The pain of the mind is worse than the pain of the body.

Mark sat up on his bed, looking at the cracked screen of his phone. Mark knew every person who had his number, and he barely gave it out because he feared it being exposed to their fan base. Who could possibly be texting him? Mark’s fingers rapidly slid across the keyboard on his phone.

> **Mark**
> 
> Who r u? how do u have my number?

Mark sent the message and waited. Mark watched as “sent” turned into “read” as he bit his thumbnail. Three dots appeared on his phone and Mark waited for the reply. “Come on.”

> **Unknown**
> 
> :)

Mark looked at the text in shock, a chill going down his spine. The message in itself didn’t seem threatening but it set Mark’s teeth on edge. He decided to play it safe, and he wasted no time blocking the number. Happy with his choice, Mark turned off his phone and lied down. They had practice in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> For this fic, Jackson, BamBam, and Youngjae live alone and Mark, Yugyeom, Jaebum, and Jinyoung share a dorm. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
